


purr like a puppy

by cant



Category: American Horror Story: Coven, None - Fandom
Genre: Drug Use, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 04:05:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11912856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cant/pseuds/cant
Summary: not the best thing ive ever written but they need to cuddle sometimes





	purr like a puppy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GardenBodied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GardenBodied/gifts).



18 never had the opportunity to cuddle anyone in bed before, and he was enjoying the idea a lot. It was comfortable, soft, and he felt safer in her bed than he ever had in his own. He could cover up his cold arms and bring the blanket up to his chin and still reach out to touch his girlfriend’s - his girlfriend’s - leg to make sure she was still there. 

“Is that a real tattoo?” she asked him one day, while they were facing each other in bed, and 18 was slowly working himself up to looking her in the eye for more than a few seconds. 

She reached out to touch his cheek, brushing away recently washed hair to touch his cheekbone. He tried to stay still and let her look. He nodded. “Wanted t-to see if I could,” he shrugged, letting her look and work her way down to his shoulder. 

“Looks good on you,” she said quietly with a little smile, slowly looking over his arms, tracing little patterns. “You should get some on your hands. I know some protection spells you could get.”

He liked that idea. He’d have to get her to sketch some out. Thinking about it, maybe she could even draw on his hands, and he could take it to his friend at the parlour - they were good with drawing from life like that, and it would be Tera’s art-

Cold, spidery fingers tapped at the place where his belt met skin, where his shirt ended and where his skin prickled. They edged up, dripping trails of sickly honey on his goosebumps, trying to be soothing but instead leaving icy, slimy fear. Cold chills shot through his body, starting where her hands touched him, going through his veins, into his heart, freezing his brain. 

SMACK.

Silence rang in his ears, panic overflowing and making him want to throw it up, screeching everything to a shuddering halt. 

Tera stared at him. Something like disbelief, with a few tears. Had he made her cry? Was that shuddering, sobbing noise him? He could barely see, so why couldn’t he just move? 

It was him. His mind fell back into his body and told him yes, he’d smacked her hands away, maybe even too hard. His body slid off the bed, not quite seeing things through blurry heartbeats, his breath coming short, and he stumbled as far as the corner next to the door before he had to sit down and tug at his hair, rocking gently back and forth. 

Repetitive, slow movements. Rhythm. His breathing slowed. His heart slowed. He was sitting in the room with Tera, who was moving around, occasionally crouching in front of him, opening a drawer and closing it. 

“Marcus? Puppy? I- I’m sorry. I- I have this,” she said, voice far away. 

18 stared at her hands for a moment. There were candles lit behind her, some smell of incense, a little chalk circle drawn on the floor. She was holding a little bowl and a familiar little rectangle of paper. 

“Go on, Puppy. It’s, um, a- a trick I learnt. Makes it work faster. Just try, okay?” 

Routine took over. He’d rolled hundreds of times before, to the point he could do it in the dark. 

“Light it with this,” she said softly, handing him one of the candles and washing calm through his body before he’d even inhaled. 

Before he knew it, they were back in the bed, and he could feel like his body belonged to him again. Tera’s touch this time was soothing, slow, calmly smoothing over cuts and burns and bruises, untangling the knots he’d put into his hair. 

With his head on her lap, letting smoke fall from his lips, he felt at home again. 

“Didn’t mean to freak out,” he said quietly, touching her knee and drawing a circle with his finger. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she said, though something told him it wasn’t okay. “I’ll ask next time. My fault.” 

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled, letting the end of the burnt-out rollup fall to the floor. He turned over so he could touch his nose to her stomach and press gentle kisses to her thighs. He didn’t know how to explain, so instead he just let out a frustrated sigh and a meow. 

“Did you just-” 

“Huh?” 

Tera was giggling, which confused 18, rubbing his eye in frustration. “You’re a cat. I’m still going to call you Puppy.” 

And the way she threaded her fingers through his hair made him purr contentedly.


End file.
